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Summary
As soon as Sans had fired the bullet, he felt the world slow down, his vision taking in every detail in that frozen moment as he felt the slow droop of his cigar begin to fall and the heavy smoke taste stick like glue in his mouth.
The drawn out distant clink of bullet cases tinkling on the floor echoed around him, the muzzle flashes stuck mid-fire, the beads of sweat on his men’s faces shining with a sickly yellow glow as bullets hung in the air moving imperceptibly slow. Cards, poker chips and money were thrown up in the air as the trails of wood chips and dust flung everything aside. Tables were fixed in place as people cowered behind them as they flipped them up in a panic, fear and screams stopped in the still shot of time.
Except one person.
Her.
A devil in a red dress.